Through Her Eyes
by ZebbieCullen
Summary: Told from Marian's POV. Her thoughts and feelings during Robin's proposal in Lardner's Ring.


_A/N: I had to use a YouTube clip to help me write this, and the quality wasn't that good, so some of the speech could be a bit off, so I apologise if it is. The characters and the spoken lines all belong to the BBC (and they're all selfish and won't share). Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!_

I put more of the rocks over the fresh grave, making sure they didn't fall off. There was a slight breeze blowing through my hair that felt refreshing on a warm day. Birds could be heard in the trees and there was a soft rustle of leaves in the background.

Robin stood at the head of the grave, looking at the grey stones, seemingly deep in thought. "I know I'm meant to be loyal and obedient but," he said, looking absently around to his right. "The King doesn't know the facts. Once he does, he'll return home."

I piled the last of rocks onto the grave, making a small crashing sound as I did. "And this is no time for you to be going back to the Holy Land," I said, looking up at him. His usually boyish face was troubled and made him look a lot closer to his age than he often acted.

He gave a small nod, avoiding my eyes. "We're agreed then?"

I picked up my canteen and took a long drink of water, the heat and work making me thirsty. He stayed quiet for a moment, watching me with his crystal blue orbs.

"Absolutely," I agreed.

He nodded again and I stood up, entwining my hands and looking down over the grave in a similar position to Robin. We both stood in silence, each in our own thoughts.

I let out a small sigh. "Would you like to say a few words?"

He looked at me and once again nodded. He was silent for the next few moments, considering his next words, searching for the appropriate ones, which must have been hard, as we didn't really know the man that had died.

When he still didn't say anything I looked around to see if anyone was watching, but saw that we were alone. "Go on then," I prodded.

He took a couple of deep breaths. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the tree that he was looking at in the distance.

My head shot up to look at him. I could feel a nervous tension radiating off of his body in waves. "What?" I breathed softly; unsure of whether I had heard him correctly. A small smile found it's way to my face, despite the earlier events that had let to up being where we were then.

"The first time I held my bow…I knew," he said, just as softly as I had asked. He must have noticed the confusion on my face as he carried on, his voice full of emotion. "It felt right. Like it had been made for me," he took a deep breath and swallowed audibly. "And that's how I feel about you."

I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, not wanting to distract him. I wanted to hear what he had to say. "I promised your father I would protect and look after you."

I felt the tears start to return at the thought of my deceased father. I had tried so hard to make sure he got food and water everyday and medial supplies when he needed them, only to have him taken away from me by a knife wound. I had learnt that in life good things and bad things happen. There were often more bad, but the good things tended to balanced them out and make them feel less important. I guessed that this was the good thing that came out of his unnecessary death.

His eyes caught mine for a brief moment. "But it works both ways. I look after my bow because it protects and looks after me. Together we're stronger."

Only Robin, I thought. Only he would compare the woman he loved to the weapon he loved. But it made sense. Alone, we were nothing. Together, we were everything.

When I didn't say anything he let out a nervous sigh. I couldn't believe that he was proposing marriage now of all times, but then, he always did do things his way. The Robin way. "So…" he walked around the grave and got down on one knee in front of me, both of his hands resting on it. "Marian, will you marry me?" he asked again.

I smiled down at the man I had fallen in love with so long ago. I gave a small laugh and then turned serious. "Of every single man in the world, you are the only one –"

"Well it that a yes?" he interrupted, reminding me of the impatient child he often acted like. His inner child that often became his outer child. His whole Gang had the mental age of about six, except for Little John, who was maybe eight.

"Will you let me finish?" I asked, trying to keep my voice relatively normal and strong, but failing.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking on the ground.

"The only one," I continued. "Who would propose over a fresh grave, by comparing me to your weapon," I laughed as I said it out loud. Most men would have cooked a romantic dinner and proposed with a fresh smelling rose in his mouth. But that was what I loved about Robin. He wasn't like most men; he was different – in a good way. But I guessed I was different too. Most women sat at home all day, cooking, cleaning and sewing. I spent my days spying on the Sheriff of Nottingham and the Black Knights, trying to stop the King from being assassinated, and spent my nights as the Night Watchman, giving food and money to the poor. Neither one of us would have lasted long married to normal people.

"Well it that a no?" he asked.

"Who will give me away?" after all, I had no father, brothers or any male relatives.

"I can ask the King," he said, obviously having thought it through. I couldn't think of many other girls that have been given away by the King of England.

I nodded in questioning and he nodded back in confirmation. Calmly, I said, "So we find Lardner, and bring the King home. Defeat the Sheriff, and then get married." It sounded easy in my mind, but harder when spoken out loud.

"That sounds like a plan," he smiled his boyish grin, getting up off of the ground.

Both of our smiles grew and I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him passionately.


End file.
